Short Shrift
by Sue Doe Nim
Summary: A disjointed development of the blossoming love between a taiyoukai and a slayer. What started out as an unshakable curiosity will lead to a fragile bond between two hearts scarred deeply with pain.
1. Lavander and Sandalwood

**Disclaimer:** All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of Rumiko Takashi. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. No copyright infringement is intended.

**A/N:** This one is going to a disjointed interpretation of the development of Sango and Sesshomaru's relationship. I can't help myself. I love this pairing. It's going to have shorter chapters. I'm going for a more drabble-like feel. Please review, I love to hear what you all think. Aside from that, enjoy the first chapter!

**Short Shrift**

**Chapter One: Lavender and Sandalwood**

The thick smell of false blossoms escaped from some sort of concoction. Water splashed softly creating ripples on the clear surface, composing a lovely song as melodic as the rising laughter of a pair of dark-haired females.

He found himself near her again. No, that's not true he came here willingly. He wanted to find her. The moment that he picked up the scent of his brother's pack earlier, he immediately pinpointed hers above the rest—so warm and light yet heavy with sorrow. There was nothing, since he could remember, that could pique his interest quite like _her_ scent did. It drew him in, clung to his senses, and dared him to decipher it.

It was never the same, always changing, always shifting. But beneath the unpredictable surface there was always the bitter sadness that would rise above all other notes, puzzling him all the more. Why is there a lingering melancholy about her even when she seems happy?

A troubling notion, this was, that he had adapted such curiosity for this human female. Though it was not nearly as troublesome as the idea that he had _allowed_ himself to come this far. In the beginning, when he first picked up on the subtle smell, he was in battle with the hanyou. Within the week, the taiyoukai became plagued by the jasmine, and sandalwood that were only made stronger by her fear at that moment, and more importantly: the underlying unhappiness.

There is no explanation for it. He needed none for he is the Great Dog General of the West and no one dare to question his motive. Possibly attributing to this fact is that his recent obsession was unknown to anyone else. His observations were done in complete secrecy and often triggered by mere chance. Whenever he catches her scent, whenever he heard rumours of his brother's pack in the area, he would come upon her.

His ears twitched.

As of late, however, it has become more than her scent that grate his nerves—it was her face, her laugh, the way she walked and moved in that peculiar fluidity developed from years of training. It annoyed him to no end that she had become the primary focus of his time.

A snarl contorted his lips.

What was it about her?

He was in high alert suddenly when he saw her stiffen. Realizing that he had unknowingly pushed his youki, he drew it back in and held his breath. Hopefully she did not notice. His eyes slanted as she made a turn to scan the vicinity. Seemingly satisfied, she shook herself and returned to chatting animatedly with the other female.

Sesshomaru exhaled.

The taiyoukai's rage flared ten-fold. Having to be reduced to some sort of night stalker, a silent audience, craving her presence like an addiction. Sesshomaru was extremely unhappy about it.

With an inward huff and a soft growl, he leaped soundlessly from his perch on a branch hidden from sight into the fading sunlight swearing that he would never return, all the while knowing that his curiosity would drive him to seek her again.

**A/N:** Do you have an uncanny ability of making eye-catching summaries? Well, have I got a job for you! I desperately need a good summary for this story as well as Bind a Demon, a Human for All Time so please send me your suggestions. I would be eternally grateful! (:


	2. Mending

**Disclaimer:** All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of Rumiko Takashi. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. No copyright infringement is intended.

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**Short Shrift**

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**Chapter Two: Mending**

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Empty.

What could mend the cracks of a broken soul?

Even in the way she spoke, the way she perceived people there is an ever-present hollowness. In the beginning, she used it as her fuel; the constant reminder of what she had lost, what she aims to avenge, what she hopes to rectify. Now, she sees with clarity that only hindsight can grant that she was mistaken in that belief. Sango learned that she cannot allow her hate to drive her into doing right in the name of those she loved.

Love.

Was she ever blessed with such a precious thing?

She reached out for a hand to hold, grabbing onto anyone who reached back. In need of support, she found Miroku. Desperation can create terrible fools. Illusions conjured by a lonely heart. A phantom of lost emotions—love, happiness. Sango was no longer certain of the truth about such feelings. It seems to have been so long. Perhaps it was not jealousy that she felt, nor hurt, when she saw him with another woman. Perhaps it was a pang of inadequacy that wounded her most. The gods did not deem her worthy of her family or of joy. Perhaps she is not worthy of love.

Alone.

What will they think if they knew?

Her new friends—or is it better fitting to call them allies—have filled the silence of her days. She laughed and smiled with them but these are mere reflexes; only momentary breaks from her despair. If she were able to love, she was certain that she would love them. That is beyond her now, though. She is too broken to feel. Her soul has left her the day she saw her family and friends massacred. The blood flowed, mixing with a river of her tears taking from her something that she can never retrieve.

Hope.

Has she found it?

Its visits were coming more often. Usually it lets it presence known through quick, sudden burst of youki. A demon it was. She was never afraid. So strong yet so comforting, for some reason she wanted to have it around always. It was hostile at times, but she cannot be pushed to fear it. It was unreasonable. But she was beyond reason. She was beyond mending. She was beyond love, beyond company.

This mysterious presence offers something that her current group did not. Sango could not begin to guess what it was but she welcomed it nonetheless. Evil is all that is good for now—and pain and sorrow. She no longer wanted to pretend that she was doing fine, that she was happy and content. She wanted to be broken, to cry, and be unworthy. She longed for freedom from this façade of bliss.

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	3. Contradiction

**Disclaimer:** All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of Rumiko Takashi. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. No copyright infringement is intended.

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**Short Shrift**

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**Chapter Three: Contradiction**

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He scoffs at the idea of love.

What a worthless pursuit—an idiotic waste of time! To watch his brother follow the human female, the indecent one, to protect her at every turn. Bound to her by his emotions. His blood boils in his veins at the sight of it, the disgust sickens him from the core.

This idea of love.

How he hated the word, the philosophies, the poems, the romance that was birthed from the imaginations of lonely hearts! He was above that. Most certainly he was, for he is able to rise above the rest. No need to bother to find love nor someone to care for him. He could manage on his own. He has managed all this time.

Yet he sits in the silence of the night allowing the calm to engulf and penetrate his person. Feeling the peace ring hallow within him. The loneliness beats audibly in his chest and he pushes it away, deep so that he could muffle it but he fails.

The tightening follows.

Who ever said the heartless no longer feel? In his mind, he wraps his elegant clawed fingers tightly around his last memories of the warmth that now chills him. He longs to find it once more. Though he is afraid that he is no longer capable. So long unused, he fears his heart has lost its capacity to accept and hold dear the smiles and the good intentions.

His eyes burn from the effort. Holding the tears that would course down his ethereal face, tearing open the scars of a time he refuses to revisit, yet returns to him every night. The battle he fights is not fought with weapons or claws. The battle he fights rages fierce everyday. The battle he fights is lost and waged once more for his enemy is formidable.

Who ever said that the strong do not fall?

Who ever said he was strong?

Fools, they were!

If only they knew the rawness he feels. Juxtaposed by the cold exterior, seeming hard as stone, one does not seek to to scratch the surface to watch him bleed from the shell marred by countless scars—pieced together by imperfection. That was what he was.

Her face invades his painful calm. How he wished to see her again—to watch the effortless stride, the careless laugh, the hidden tears. He wonders if she will know, if she will understand for now he realizes that they were the same.

His imagination projects her endless, sad eyes onto the melancholy dark night.

He scoffs at the idea of hope.

What a worthless pursuit—an idiotic waste of time! To allow himself to follow a human female, cherishing every movement. Bound to her by his loneliness and her pain. His blood boils in his veins, the disgust sickens him to the core.

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**A/N: **I know I've been on M.I.A. for a while but I've been busy with the new school year starting. I swear that I will pick up my writing again but maybe at a slower pace than before. I hope you enjoyed this chapter. Please review!


	4. He Lies

**Disclaimer:** All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of Rumiko Takashi. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. No copyright infringement is intended.

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**Short Shrift**

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**Chapter Four: He Lies**

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The years are certainly showing. The fight is no longer the challenge it was when he first started out. No longer is he able to fully immerse himself in the moment; the adrenaline rush is not worth it. He longed for more—for more heart stopping experiences, for a greater thrill—the thrill of the hunt!

She was his new addiction, his new past time. Perhaps when he trivializes her effect on him to something easily explained, like a strong interest, he will be able to disguise the true nature of his preoccupation, his obsession.

In the past few months it became undeniable, even inevitable. He would pick up the scent of sandalwood and sorrow at every turn. There she would be, giggling with his brother's bitch, in plain sight, appearing out of nowhere like a cherub sent by the gods. Then she would capture him; and he would immerse himself totally with her presence, her scent, her voice. He would be lost. A child within the vast depth of the forest, completely alone yet entirely comforted, held against the bosom of the earth—he was home.

Never did he mind, now, that he lurked in the shadows for those thoughts would be pushed far beyond his immediate consciousness by the clear chime of her laugh. The sing-song melody of her voice made ever richer by her masquerade. He was enthralled. Sesshomaru could feel her unshed tears. At times, he could hear her unheard sobs, her desperate silent cries—he wanted to reach out to her.

"Do not fear me," his heart begged but he would crush the thought as soon as it arose. He is the Demon Lord of the Western Lands; there is nothing more important to his person than to be feared! This woman—this _human_ woman—should certainly fear him above all else.

He lies.

He lies often nowadays for what else does one do when they are no longer sure of what they know to be true?

He is a lie.

Every part of him now rings with uncertainty, with deceits. Is he truly as frigid as he taught himself to be?

Certainly! He needs no one.

He lies.

He lays beneath the stars on a high tree branch within his private realm which has now been opened up to her. She forced her way through. The last few months was a struggle for control and she won.

He hated her effect on him.

He lies.

Now are the times in which he was euphoric—when he permits for himself a moment of peace and joy. These times are very rare for he lies. To the world, to himself, for the sake of his throne, his people, and his person he must lie.

A broken heart needs to be protected from more hurt.

A broken person needs time to heal.

Again, visions of her plague him. Her scent clings tightly to his memory—he is insane with contentment.

He wants to speak to her. No, to show himself. He wants to let her know. But he must never allow himself to stoop to such levels! He will _not_ present himself to the female, practically begging for her touch, willing to give anything to share her burden. Never would an obscene notion come into fruition.

He lies.

And smiles.

And hopes for the next moment upon which they would meet.

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**A/N: **This one is definitely more abstract but I like it. (:

I hope you did too!

DON'T FORGET TO REVIEW!


	5. Only

**Disclaimer:** All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of Rumiko Takashi. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. No copyright infringement is intended.

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**Short Shrift**

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**Chapter Five: Only**

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She wandered away on her own again. She found herself doing it more and more often. Perhaps it was the freedom from the pressures of being part of a group that pulls her or maybe she sought the privacy, the silence, in which she is able to ease into the hollowness that seems to define her. Maybe it is neither. Maybe she wanted only to feel the soothing presence that has been so constant as of late.

It is its company with whom she keeps during these times which she can manage to find a reasonable excuse to get away. Into isolated parts of the forest, her feet would lead her or in the open banks of easy-flowing streams. Like an ever-watchful guardian the youkai would always be there.

Upon sensing it, a chill would run down her spine as her years of training would warn her of the danger such a presence can bring. Then she would relax and a faint smile would cross her lips because she knew—somehow she knew—that it understood her. A lonesome presence, so dark and pained; it would sometimes stay with her for hours as she merely remained in one spot. No words would pass to break the silence.

There is only the orchestra of nature to remind them that they are still of the earthly world, the awareness of danger that is just beyond their reach and the growing trust between them that is difficult to explain.

They are only two lonely hearts.

For that is what they are—two lonely hearts who find solace in one another in these secret moments that is theirs to hold dear.

"Please show yourself," she called out into the deep darkness of the night. It was slowly becoming that its presence was not enough. She wanted to put a face to the trust and peace that she feels. A desire burned within her for a comforting touch—someone to hold her and accept her for the broken person she is now. "Please," she begged. "I need you."

Only further silence answered her. The cicadas continued their song and the endless blanket of stars watched passively as their lives unfolded and entwined. Only disappointed filled her as it did not heed her prayer. Hot tears were pushed back as she fought against rejection that gnawed at her.

Sango was prepared to convince herself that it would be fruitless to continue on this routine. She was prepared to accept there is to be nothing more to these private encounters than what it is at present. But she cannot bring herself to do so.

Only it can soothe her sorrow.

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_A/N:_ _Well, aren't I on a roll! Second update today—I'm very proud of me. This chapter is not the greatest but it needs to be written to get the cobwebs of my keyboard. _

_I hope you enjoyed it! Reviews would be greatly appreciated. _


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